On the Duties of the Clergy 2.4–2.11

There is, then, blessedness even in pains, which virtue, full of sweetness, holds down and restrains, abounding in its own resources, whether for conscience or for grace. For Moses was not a little blessed when, hemmed in by the peoples of the Egyptians and shut in by the sea, he had found by his holy merits a path on foot through the waves for himself and the people of the fathers. When was he braver than then, when, surrounded by extreme dangers, he did not despair of safety but demanded triumph? What of Aaron? When did he believe himself more blessed than when he stood between the living and the dead and by putting himself in the way halted death, so that it might not pass from the corpses of the dead to the ranks of the living? What shall I say of the boy Daniel, who was so wise that among lions exasperated by hunger he was not broken by any fear of beastly savagery: so free of fear that he could feast, and did not fear that by his example he might provoke the beasts to feed? There is, then, virtue even in pain, which shows itself the sweetness of a good conscience; and so it is a sign that pain does not lessen the pleasure of virtue. As, then, there is no loss of blessedness to virtue through pain, so there is no gain through bodily pleasure or the favour of advantages. Of these the Apostle says beautifully: “What were gains to me, these I counted losses for Christ.” And he added: “For whom I counted all things loss, and I reckon them as dung, that I may gain Christ.” Indeed Moses thought the treasures of the Egyptians his loss, and preferred the reproach of the Lord’s cross; he was not rich then when he abounded in money, nor poor afterwards when he lacked food; unless perhaps he seemed to someone less blessed then, when daily nourishment was lacking to himself and his people in the desert. But—what no one would dare to deny belongs to the highest good and blessedness—manna, that is, the bread of angels, was ministered to him from heaven; and a daily rain of flesh too overflowed for the meals of the whole people. Holy Elijah too would have lacked bread for food, if it had been sought; but it did not seem lacking, because it was not sought. So by the daily service of ravens bread was brought to him in the morning, flesh in the evening. Was he less blessed because he was poor for himself? Not at all. Rather, he was the more blessed, because he was rich toward God. For it is better to be rich for others than for oneself, as he was, who in time of famine asked a widow for food, intending to give her in return that the jar of meal should not fail for three years and six months, and that the vessel of oil should suffice and serve the daily uses of the poor widow. Rightly Peter wished to be there where he saw them. Rightly they appeared with Christ in glory on the mountain; for he too became poor though he was rich. Riches, then, give no support to the blessed life. The Lord clearly showed this in the Gospel, saying: “Blessed are the poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst now, for they shall be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” So it has been most clearly declared that poverty, hunger, and pain, which are thought evils, are not only no hindrance to the blessed life but even a help.

But it is clear from the Lord’s judgment that those things too which seem good—riches, fullness, joy free from pain—are a loss to the fruit of blessedness, when it is said: “Woe to you rich, for you have your consolation! Woe to you who are filled, for you will hunger!” And to those who laugh, that they will mourn. So bodily or external goods are not only no support to the blessed life but even a loss. Hence Naboth was blessed even when he was stoned by a rich man, because, poor and weak against royal wealth, he was rich only in affection and religion, so that he would not exchange the inheritance of his father’s vineyard for royal money; and he was perfect in this, that he defended the rights of his forefathers with his own blood. Hence too Ahab was wretched even by his own judgment, because he had had a poor man killed in order to possess his vineyard. It is certain that virtue is the only and highest good, and that it alone suffices abundantly for the fruit of the blessed life; and that the blessed life is granted not by external or bodily goods but by virtue alone, through which eternal life is acquired. For the blessed life is the fruit of present things; eternal life the hope of things to come. Yet there are some who think the blessed life impossible in this body, so weak and so fragile, in which one must be anxious, grieve, lament, and fall sick: as if I were to say that the blessed life consists in the exultation of the body and not in the height of wisdom, the sweetness of conscience, and the sublimity of virtue. For it is blessed not to be in suffering, but to be victor over suffering, and not to be broken by the movement of temporal pain. Suppose those things happen which are reckoned grievous in the force of their pain: blindness, exile, hunger, the violation of a daughter, the loss of children. Who would deny that Isaac was blessed, who did not see in old age, and conferred blessedness by his blessings? Was not Jacob blessed, who, a fugitive from his father’s house, endured exile as a hired shepherd, groaned that his daughter’s chastity had been violated, and bore famine? Are they not blessed by whose faith God receives testimony, when it is said: “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob”? Slavery is wretched, but Joseph was not wretched; rather plainly blessed, when, placed in slavery, he restrained the lusts of his mistress. What shall I say of holy David, who lamented the death of three sons and, harder than this, his daughter’s incest? How was he not blessed, from whose line was born the author of blessedness, who has made very many blessed? For “blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” They too felt weakness, but out of weakness they were made strong. What was more laborious than holy Job’s lot, in the burning of his house, the sudden death of his ten children, and his bodily pains? Was he less blessed than if he had not suffered those things in which he was the more proved? Granted, however, that there was some bitterness in them, a pain which the virtue of his mind did not hide. For I would not deny that the sea is deep because the shores are shallow, nor that the sky is clear because it is sometimes covered with clouds, nor that the earth is fruitful because in some places it is barren gravel, nor that the crops are glad because they usually have barren wild oats mixed in. Likewise suppose that the harvest of a blessed conscience is interrupted by some bitterness of pain. Is not whatever adversity and bitterness may happen hidden among the sheaves of the whole blessed life, like barren wild oats, or covered, like the bitterness of darnel, by the sweetness of the wheat? But now let us proceed to what we proposed.

In the former book we made the division so that the honourable and seemly, from which duties are derived, came first, and what is useful in second place. And as in the first we said that there is a certain distinction between the honourable and the seemly, which can be understood rather than explained, so too, when we treat the useful, it seems we must consider what is more useful. But we reckon usefulness not by the estimate of monetary gain but by the acquisition of piety; as the Apostle says: “But piety is useful for all things, having the promise of the present life and of the future.” So in the divine Scriptures, if we search diligently, we often find that what is honourable is called useful: “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are useful.” Just before, he was speaking of vices. He says, then: it is possible to sin, but it is not seemly. Sins are in our power, but they are not honourable. To live in luxury is easy, but not just. For food is gathered not for God but for the belly. So since what is useful is also just, it is just that we serve Christ who redeemed us; therefore those are just who offered themselves to death for his name, and those unjust who declined it, of whom he says: “What profit is there in my blood?” that is, what advance of my justice? Hence also those men said: “Let us bind the just man, for he is useless to us,” that is, unjust, because he rebukes, condemns, and reproves us. This can also be applied to the avarice of ungodly men, which is near to faithlessness; as we read of Judas the traitor, who through zeal for avarice and desire for money ran into and fell into the snare of betrayal. We must treat, then, of that usefulness which is full of the honourable, as the Apostle defined it in these very words: “This I say for your usefulness, not to cast a snare upon you, but for what is honourable.” It is clear, then, that what is honourable is useful, and what is useful honourable; and what is useful just, and what just useful. For I speak not to merchants greedy with desire for gain, but to sons; and I speak of duties, which I long to impress on and pour into you whom I have chosen for the ministry of the Lord, so that what has been implanted and impressed on your minds and characters by habit and training may also be opened up by word and teaching. So, as I am about to speak of the useful, I shall use that prophetic verse: “Incline my heart to your testimonies, and not to avarice”; lest the sound of “usefulness” rouse the desire for money. Indeed some have: “Incline my heart to your testimonies, and not to usefulness”; that is, that usefulness which hunts the markets of gain, that usefulness bent and diverted by human usage to the pursuit of money. For commonly people call only that useful which is profitable; but we treat of that usefulness which is sought by losses, that we may gain Christ, whose gain is piety with sufficiency. Great indeed is the gain by which we acquire piety, which is rich before God, not in perishable resources but in eternal gifts, in which there is not slippery temptation but constant and perpetual grace. There is, then, one usefulness of the body and another of piety, as the Apostle divided them: “For bodily exercise is useful for a little; but piety is useful for all things.” And what is so honourable as integrity? What so seemly as to keep the body spotless, and modesty inviolate and undefiled? What, too, so seemly as that a widow keep faith with her dead husband? What more useful than that by which the kingdom of heaven is acquired? For there are those who have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven.

There is, then, not only a close companionship between the honourable and the useful, but the useful is the same as the honourable. And so he who wished to open the kingdom of heaven to all sought not what was useful to himself but what was useful to all. Hence we must make a kind of order and step, from these usual and common things up to those that are pre-eminent, so that from many examples we may gather the advance of usefulness. And first let us know that nothing is so useful as to be loved, nothing so useless as not to be loved; for to be hated I think deadly and utterly fatal. So let us strive with all diligence to commend our reputation and good name, and first let us flow into men’s affections by calmness of mind and kindness of spirit. For goodness is popular and pleasing to all, and there is nothing that slips so easily into human feelings. If it is helped by gentleness of character and easiness, and also by moderation in command, affability of speech, respectful words, patience in taking turns in conversation, and the grace of modesty, it is incredible how far it goes towards a store of love. For we read not only of private persons but even of kings how much the easiness of a pleasant affability has profited, or how much pride and swollen words have harmed, so as to shake kingdoms themselves and dissolve power. Again, if anyone wins popular favour by counsel, practice, service, and good offices, or if anyone offers his own danger for the whole people, there is no doubt that so much love is poured back on him by the people that the people prefers his safety and favour to its own. How many insults heaped on him by the people did Moses absorb! And when the Lord wished to take vengeance on the insolent, he often offered himself for the people, to withdraw the people from the divine indignation. With what gentle speech after injuries did he address the people, console them in their labours, soothe them with oracles, and cherish them with works! And though he spoke constantly with God, he used to address men in a humble and pleasing manner. Rightly he was esteemed above men, so that they could not gaze at his face, and they believed his tomb was not found; for he had so bound to himself the minds of the whole people that they loved him more for his gentleness than they admired him for his deeds. What of his imitator holy David, chosen out of all to rule the people: how gentle and pleasant, humble in spirit, diligent in heart, easy in disposition! Before his reign he offered himself for all; as king he shared military service equally with all and divided the toil: brave in battle, gentle in command, patient under abuse, readier to bear injuries than to return them. So dear was he to all that as a young man he was sought for the kingship even against his will and was compelled when he resisted; as an old man he was begged by his own people not to take part in battle, because all preferred to be in danger for him rather than he for all. So he had bound the people to himself by pleasing services: first, that in the discords of the people he preferred to be an exile in Hebron rather than to reign in Jerusalem; then, that he loved virtue even in an enemy; that he thought justice was to be shown to those who had borne arms against him as to himself and his own; finally, he admired Abner, the bravest champion of the opposing side, while he was a general and waging war, and did not spurn him when he asked for the favour of peace, but honoured him with a banquet; when he was killed by treachery, David grieved and wept for him and honoured him by following his funeral; he gave proof of his good conscience by avenging his death, which he passed on to his son among his hereditary charges, more anxious not to leave the death of an innocent man unavenged than to lament his own death. It is no small thing, especially in a king, so to carry out the duties of humility as to show himself on a level even with the lowest: not to seek food at another’s peril, to refuse drink, to confess sin, and to offer himself to death for the people, so that the divine indignation might be turned upon him, when, offering himself to the striking angel, he said: “Here I am; I have sinned, and I the shepherd have done evil; and this flock, what has it done? Let your hand be upon me.” Why should I say other things: that he did not open his mouth to those who plotted deceit, and, as though not hearing, thought no word should be returned; that he did not answer abuse; that when he was disparaged, he prayed; when he was cursed, he blessed? He walked in simplicity, shunned the proud, followed the spotless; he mixed ashes with his food when he lamented his own sins, and mingled his drink with weeping. Rightly he was so sought by the whole people that all the tribes of Israel came to him, saying: “Behold, we are your bone and your flesh; yesterday and the day before, when Saul was alive and reigned over us, you were the one who led Israel out and brought it in. And the Lord said to you: You shall shepherd my people.” And why should I say more of him, of whom such a judgment of God went forth that he said of him: “I have found David after my heart”? For who walked like him in holiness of heart and justice, to fulfil the will of God; for whose sake pardon was given to his descendants when they sinned, and a privilege was reserved to his heirs? Who, then, would not love him, seeing him so dear to his friends, so that, because he himself loved his friends sincerely, he thought he was equally loved by his friends? Indeed parents preferred him to their own sons, and sons to their parents. Hence Saul, greatly angered, wanted to strike his son Jonathan with a spear, because he judged that David’s friendship counted for more with him than either filial duty or paternal authority. For it helps very much towards kindling common love if one returns love to those who love, and shows that he loves in return no less than he is loved, and makes this plain by the proofs of faithful friendship. For what is so popular as gratitude? What is so implanted in nature as to love one who loves you? What is so ingrained and impressed on human feelings as to bring yourself to love one by whom you wish to be loved? Rightly the wise man says: “Lose money for the sake of a brother and friend.” And elsewhere: “I will not be ashamed to greet a friend, and I will not hide myself from his face.” For the word of Ecclesiasticus testifies that the medicine of life and immortality is in a friend; and no one will doubt that the highest protection lies in love, since the Apostle says: “It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things; love never fails.” Therefore David did not fall, because he was dear to all and preferred to be loved by his subjects rather than feared. For fear keeps the watches of a temporary protection; it does not know how to guard for long. So when fear has departed, boldness creeps in; for fear does not compel faith; affection displays it. The first thing, then, to commend us is love. It is good, then, to have the testimony of the love of many. From this faith is born, so that even strangers are not afraid to entrust themselves to your affection when they have noticed that you are dear to many. Likewise one comes through faith to love; so that he who has kept faith with one or two flows, as it were, into the minds of all and gains the favour of all.

These two, then, love and faith, do most to commend us; and a third, if you have something that most people think worthy of admiration and judge rightly to be honoured. And since the giving of counsel most of all wins men over, prudence and justice are looked for in each one and expected by many, so that trust may be placed in him in whom they are found, because he can give useful and faithful counsel to one who wants it. For who would entrust himself to one whom he does not think wiser than he himself who seeks counsel? It is necessary, then, that he from whom counsel is sought be more outstanding than he who seeks it. For why would you consult a man whom you do not think able to find something better than you yourself understand? But if you find one who excels in liveliness of talent, vigour of mind, and authority, and to this is added that he is readier by example and practice, so as to resolve present dangers, foresee future ones, announce those imminent, clear up a question, bring a remedy in time, and be ready not only to counsel but also to help, such a man is so trusted that he who seeks counsel says: “And if evils befall me through him, I bear them.” To such a man, then, we entrust our safety and reputation, who is, as we said above, just and prudent. For justice brings it about that there is no fear of fraud, and prudence that there is no suspicion of error. Yet we entrust ourselves more readily to a just man than to a prudent one, to speak according to common usage. But by the definition of the wise, where there is one virtue the others concur, and prudence cannot exist without justice. This we find also in our own writings; for David says: “The just man is merciful and lends.” What the just man lends, he says elsewhere: “Pleasant is the man who is merciful and lends; he will order his words in judgment.” That famous judgment of Solomon itself, is it not full of wisdom and justice? Let us see, then, whether it is so. “Two women,” it says, “stood before King Solomon, and one said to him: Hear me, my lord. This woman and I, living in one room, each bore a son, with three days between the births, and we were together; there was no witness in the house, nor any other woman with us, but we two alone; and her son died in the night, because she lay on him; and she arose at midnight, took my son from my bosom and laid him in her lap, and laid her dead son in my bosom. And I arose in the morning to nurse my child, and found him dead. And I looked at him at dawn, and he was not my son. And the other answered: No, but my son is the living one; yours is the dead one.” This was the dispute, since each claimed the surviving son as her own and denied that the dead one was hers. Then the king ordered a sword to be brought and the infant divided, and the parts given to each: half to one and half to the other. The woman who was moved by true affection cried out: “No, my lord, do not divide the infant; let him rather be given to her and live, and do not kill him.” But the other answered: “Let the infant be neither mine nor hers; divide him.” And the king decided that the infant be given to the woman who had said, “Do not kill him”: “Give him to that woman,” he said, “for her bowels were moved over her son.” So not without reason was the understanding of God thought to be in him; for what is hidden from God? And what is more hidden than the testimony of the inner bowels, into which the understanding of the wise man descended like a judge of devotion, and drew out, as it were, the voice of the womb that bore the child? For the mother’s affection was revealed, which chose that her son should live even with another woman rather than be killed before his mother’s eyes. It belonged to wisdom, then, to distinguish hidden consciences, to draw out the truth from secret things, and as with a kind of sword to pierce with the sword of the Spirit not only the bowels of the womb but also those of the soul and mind; and it belonged to justice, that she who had killed her own should not take another’s, but the true mother should receive her own. Indeed Scripture too declared this: “All Israel heard this judgment which the king had judged, and they feared before the king, because the understanding of God was in him to do justice.” Indeed Solomon himself asked for wisdom thus, that he might be given a prudent heart to hear and judge with justice.

It is clear, then, according to divine Scripture too, which is older, that wisdom cannot exist without justice; for where one of these virtues is, both are. Daniel too: how wisely by deep questioning he detected the lie of a fraudulent accusation, so that the answers of the slanderers did not agree with each other! It belonged to prudence, then, to expose the guilty by the testimony of their own voice; and to justice, to give the guilty to punishment and rescue the innocent. There is, then, an indivisible companionship of wisdom and justice; but in common usage the one form of the virtues is divided, so that temperance lies in despising pleasures, fortitude is seen in labours and dangers, prudence in the choice of goods, knowing how to distinguish advantages and adversities, and justice is a good guardian of another’s right and protector of property, preserving to each his own. Let this fourfold division, then, be made for us for the sake of common opinion, so that, drawing back our foot from that subtle disputation of philosophical wisdom which is dug out as from a kind of inner sanctum for the sake of refining the truth, we may follow the usage of public life and popular understanding. Keeping this division, then, let us return to our subject.

We entrust our cause to all the most prudent, and seek counsel from them more readily than from others. Yet the faithful counsel of a just man is better, and often outweighs the talent of the wisest. For “more useful are the wounds of a friend than the kisses of others.” Then, it belongs to the just man to judge, but to the wise man to argue: in the one is the strictness of judgment, in the other the cleverness of invention. But if you join both, there will be great soundness of counsel, which all regard with admiration for its wisdom and love for its justice; so that all seek to hear the wisdom of that man in whom there is the union of both virtues: as all the kings of the earth sought to see the face of Solomon and hear his wisdom, so that the queen of Sheba too came to him and tested him with questions: “And she came and spoke all that she had in her heart, and heard all the wisdom of Solomon, and no word escaped her.” Who she is whom nothing escapes, and to whom there is nothing that the true Solomon did not declare, learn, O man, from what you hear her saying: “True is the report which I heard in my land about your words and your prudence; and I did not believe those who told me, until I came and my eyes saw; and now it is not even half of what they told me. You have added good things beyond all I heard in my land. Blessed are your women, and blessed your servants who stand before you, who hear all your prudence.” Understand the banquet of the true Solomon and what is set out at that banquet; understand wisely, and consider in what land the congregation of the nations has heard the fame of true wisdom and justice, and with what eyes it has seen him: eyes, surely, that contemplate the things which are not seen. “For the things which are seen are temporal, but those which are not seen are eternal.” Who are the blessed women, but those of whom it is said that many hear the word of God and bring it forth? And elsewhere: “For whoever does the word of God is my brother and sister and mother.” Who too are your blessed servants who stand by, but Paul, who said, “To this day I stand, testifying to small and great,” and Simeon, who waited in the temple to see the consolation of Israel? For how would he have asked to be let go, unless, standing beside the Lord, he could not have the power to depart without having obtained the Lord’s will? Solomon has been set before us as an example, from whom men eagerly asked to hear his wisdom. Joseph too, even in prison, was not left idle from being consulted about uncertain things. His counsel benefited all Egypt, so that it did not feel the barrenness of seven years, and relieved other peoples from the hunger of wretched famine. Daniel, from among the captives made judge of the royal counsellors, by his counsels corrected present things and announced future ones. For since by the things he had often interpreted he had shown himself a true herald, trust was given him in all things.

But the third point too, about those thought worthy of admiration, seems to have been covered by the example of Joseph, Solomon, and Daniel. For what shall I say of Moses, whose counsels all Israel awaited daily, whose life gave credit to his prudence and increased admiration for him? Who would not entrust himself to the counsel of Moses, to whom the elders reserved for decision whatever they thought beyond their own understanding and power? Who would shun the counsel of Daniel, of whom God himself said: “Are you wiser than Daniel?” Or how could men doubt the minds of those on whom God conferred such grace? By Moses’ counsel wars were brought to an end; by Moses’ merits food flowed from heaven, and drink from the rock. How pure was Daniel’s mind, that it softened barbarous characters and tamed lions! What temperance in him! What continence of mind and body! Not undeservedly was he made wonderful to all, since (what men greatly wonder at) though supported by royal friendships he did not seek gold, nor did he value the honour conferred on him more than his faith. Rather he preferred to be in danger for the law of the Lord than to be bent for the favour of man. And of holy Joseph (whom I had almost passed over), what shall I say of his chastity and justice? The one rejected the allurements of his master’s house and refused rewards; the other despised death, repelled fear, and chose prison. Who would not judge him fit to give counsel in a private cause, whose fruitful mind and fertile heart made the barrenness of the time fruitful by a kind of richness of counsel and of heart?